Like a Moth to a Flame
by Mitexi of the Sacred Moon
Summary: AlbelNel. Full summary inside. Rated for later chapters. A deadly sickness is sweeping across Ariglyph, and Albel must team up with Nel once again to recover an ancient atrifact stolen during the AquorGreeton war. AlNel and Romance like whoa.


_Author's Notes: 'Ello there! I'm Mitexi, and this… This is my first attempt at a fanfiction. Yes, my first fanfiction _ever_, so please be nice, okay? Anyway, on to the specifics of the fic…_

_Title: Like a Moth to a Flame_

_Rating: M, for later chapters. There will be smex, just not 'til later._

_Plot Synopsis: A plague is sweeping across Ariglyph, and is threatening the borders of Aquaria. When Albel suddenly remembers an old legend his father had once told him about, of a mystical artifact that used to reside in the Sacred City of Aquiose, when the two nations had been one, he goes looking for answers. And, of course, a certain red-head already knows much about the relic- like the fact that it was stolen during the Aquor-Greeton war so many years ago. Now Nel and Albel must work together, once again, to reclaim the healing artifact, for both their countries sake. And maybe they'll reclaim their own destinies, and let their hearts rule for once._

_Author's Notes: Bad plot summary, I know, but I don't even have the entire plot planned out myself, yet. ;; I know, it's bad of me, but I work on inspiration, so expect sporadic updates. I live on reviews, and the more I get, the more likely I'll be to write more, if I know I have people who want to read what I'm writing._

Albel the Wicked. That was what they called him. They also said he was ruthless, heartless even. They said he was death itself, a black-and-blond haired reaper, for surely his presence upon a battle field meant death. Sneering, Albel mounted a borrowed dragon, whose rider had fallen to the plague months ago. Steeped in his dark thoughts about himself, and the plague, he spurred his mount onwards. Towards Aquaria.

The plague, or Black Death, as it was known, had come to Ariglyph a year earlier. It had started in small villages, just one or two of the elderly, or the habitually sick. Then it began to attack the healthy. It stole into their homes and bedrooms, starting out as a simple cough, a slight tickle in the throat, nothing to worry about. Then the rash would come, blackening the skin until the flesh just fell away. And then the cough would return in force, causing the poor soul who had the Black Death to hack up a horrible black substance, from which the sickness earned it's name. It wasn't long after the black matter that the man or woman who had the Death would die.

Albel scowled. Some of his best men had fallen victim to this sickness. Not to mention the scores of peasants and nobility alike that had died from it. They were running out of land to bury them. Whole villages had been destroyed, and the few that remained came to the royal city, looking for work, refuge. They found neither. The economy of Ariglyph left much to be desired. No one had any money to spend, or refused to spend what little they did have, and consequently no one was earning it either. The city was overcrowded now, with people spilling out into the streets for lack of housing.

He didn't see why the King didn't just commission everyone to build houses. It'd give them work, at least a bit of pay, and a place to live. Maybe then he wouldn't have to step over the sleeping and the dying in the streets when he had to go out.

And they were dying. At least ten every day. It was sickening. They'd brought the plague to the city, and it didn't rest, even in royal presence. The King and his new wife had been sequestered three months before, only the thoroughly healthy allowed to tend to them, and only then when it was necessary were they permitted to enter the royal chambers. Albel himself hadn't seen his King in weeks. He and Woltar, that old fool, were running the country now. He didn't understand why it was so important to keep a leader alive when he wasn't even doing his job.

Looking at the landscape below him, Albel adjusted his course as needed, the dragon's head pointed toward the royal city of Aquiose. He had business, it seemed, with the queen. Asking for more healers… If Ariglyph's doctors couldn't do anything, he didn't see how the Maidens of Aquaria, even those with runes and larger numbers, could help. No, he was changing his mission orders just a bit. He wanted access to the libraries of Aquaria. Wanted the ancient tomes he knew resided there. If he wasn't mistaken, his father had once told him of a sacred Aquor artifact that could heal the dying. And he wanted it. Because maybe, just maybe, the people would see who had the best interests for this country in mind. And then they'd get that fool, Arze, off the throne. He couldn't govern his way of a paper bag. Sighing, he dipped the dragon lower, and lower still, until he had landed in the courtyards where, just a year and a half ago, he had prowled and paced with restless energy as the runoligists fitted Crosell with the runological weapon. Thinking of that time, of that adventure, inevitably brought a certain Aquarian Maiden to mind.

"Well, well, well. And to what do we owe this dubious honor?" Dismounting, Albel tossed the reigns to an Aquarian stable hand- as if they could stable a dragon- before turning to meet the amethyst glare and defensive stance with a predatory grin and crossed arms.

"Zelpher," he said, nodding his head in greeting. He flexed his metal gauntlet pointedly even as her hands rested upon her hips, her finger tips brushing the hilts of her daggers.

"Nox," she finally greeted in turn. They were… well, not friends, per say, but allies. In a sense. Tucking her scarlet stands of hair behind her ears, she effectively broke the hostile spell that had fallen over them. "I heard about the plague. I'm surprised you didn't come to us sooner. We have powerful healing spells-" she began but was cut off as he sliced his hand through the air to stop her from speaking.

"Your Queen doesn't trust you much, does she? We sent for healers when the first case in the royal city cropped up. They could do nothing. Of course, maybe that's why she didn't make it public knowledge… Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go grovel for a bit-" It was Nel's turn to cut him off, snorting in laughter. He arched an eyebrow at her, his wine-colored eyes narrowed dangerously.

"You? Grovel? Please, Albel. I know what you're after. Her Majesty sent me out here to escort you to and around the libraries. I spend most of my time in there now, since I haven't much else to do. So you see, my Queen trusts me just fine. What I was going to say, before you so rudely interrupted me, we have stronger healing spells, more healers. But, if you're so interested in what Aquaria has to offer… Let's get this over with," she said, motioning for him to follow her. He did follow her, shaking his shaggy mane of dark and blond hair out of his face as he went. Who knew why he kept it so long… It did make for a rather dramatic effect though, and it he wasn't anything, Albel Nox was certainly dramatic, Nel thought as she led him into the palace. Even now he garnered wary looks and commanded a wide berth about him.

"Well, here we are. All the knowledge of Aquaria, right at your finger tips, Lord Albel," she said in a voice that closely resembled that of a mocking tone. Albel gave her a glare, 'the look' as she had long before labeled it.

"If you have any trouble deciphering some of the older text languages, I'll be-"

"I'm not stupid, Nel. Nobility does have it's benefits, I suppose. I was tutored in some of the… finer subjects until I was about 16. I'd then convinced Woltar that he wasn't going to make a scholar out of me." Nel blinked it surprise. This had to have been the first time she'd ever heard him speak of his childhood. She'd found out, during her spying days, about the unfortunate accident his father had suffered. Coincidentally that was also why he'd had need of a metal arm- Greeton engineering, if she hadn't gotten mistaken information. Looking him over, she noted that he still wore the claw. She knew he had several different versions of the gauntlet- one of which was shaped like a regular hand. She would have wondered why he didn't change it, since they were in times of peace. Would have wondered, if she didn't know him. Always ready for battle, was Albel. Always looking for it, rather. His clothes had changed though, since she'd last seen him.

Gone was the outlandish purple get-up, in place of it was navy blue. Navy blue suede pants that hugged his slim legs perfectly. Dark blue long sleeved shirt, also form-hugging, made of some sort of solid material. No silk or finery for this noble. His shoes were black, matching the long over coat that covered his shirt, silver buttons all down the torso portion of the garment, three of which were buttoned, leaving it to flare behind him as shifted his weight from one foot to another.

"What are you staring at?" he snapped at her, growling just a bit. She took a step back before pulling herself even with him, controlling the flush that wanted to creep up on her cheeks, since she'd been caught looking at him.

"Nothing worth a second glance, that's for sure," she responded with a sneer. He opened his mouth, as if to offer a quick retort, as he often had, but decided against it, it seemed. He brushed her hair out of her eyes, his fingers sliding sensually across her cheek. He muttered something that sounded like a curse as he stepped back, beginning to skim over leather-bound books, running his long fingers down some of the spines. Nel hated herself, but she wished it was her spine he was sliding his hands down. She did flush then, and she quickly turned.

Neither of them spoke, neither of them mentioned the touch, the flaring heat both of them had felt. Not that they knew the other was feeling the same. Albel looked up, then.

"All right. You know something I don't, do you?" Nel smiled sweetly.

"I told you. I've been spending a lot of time in the library."

"Trying to strength the peace between Ariglyph and Aquaria by saving us all, then?" he asked, arching an eyebrow as he observed her, noting for the first time that she was out of uniform.

Instead of the usual short tunic and tall leg coverings, her legs were encased in black leather knee-high boots, a good foot and a half shorter than her near-leg length coverings she normally wore. In place of the lower part of the tunic were a pair of form-fitting black pants that were tucked into her boots, effectively showing off and covering up her lower body. Her torso was still covered in the leather and buckle cinch she'd worn when he last saw her, but the shirt tucked behind it was black as well, with long sleeves that stopped just at her elbow, and a rather modest neckline, though still form-fitting. Raising his red-wine colored gaze to meet her amethyst one, noting the faint tinge of pink on her high cheek bones, her scarlet hair looked even darker in contrast to her pale skin.

Apparently she hadn't been outside as much as she once had been, though, he was forced to admit to himself that the paler shade of skin suited her, as did her new clothes. Everything suited her.

"What are _you_ staring at?" she demanded, folding her arms across her chest and leaning back on a hip, a look of half glare, half interest on her face.

"Something that may be worth a second glance," he said, folding his own arms across his chest. She blinked slowly at him, before shaking her head. She moved her hands to her hips, but looked decidedly more comfortable. Albel was still Albel. She'd been… Well, she hadn't known how the year after the whole fiasco with Luther would leave him. Apparently nothing phased the tall, slim captain of the Black Brigade.

"Flattery isn't going to get you any where, Albel. Follow me…"

"I know it won't get me any where…" he muttered behind her. She gave him an odd look but brushed the moment off. Taking him through rows upon rows of books, she finally made it to the back of the library- of course! Where else would it be? he thought sourly to himself- she made a show of looking for the book, or books, he'd need, before presenting him with two very thick, very old-looking leather bound tomes.

"Lovely," he murmured with a sarcastic roll of his eyes before taking them from her. Looking around, he was grateful to see a very large wooden desk that was wide than it was tall, and long enough for him to stretch out comfortably upon it. He sat them down on the table, opening the first one. He blinked as flakes of the old leather flicked off as the binding was cracked for the first time in who knew how long. The pages were yellowed with age, the ink faded to a dull gray. Scowling, he groped along in his pocket with his good hand before pulling out a slender pair of silver rimmed glasses. Pulling a chair up, he sat his tall frame upon the worn wood of the stool, and flicked the spectacles open, scowling more as he moved his shaggy main of black and blond hair out of his way, hooking the small frames onto his ears. Peering with an agitated sneer at the ancient and pale writing, he heaved a sigh and began to skim through, translating the old language with little difficulty.

Though he'd never mention it, he enjoyed the challenge of the mind as much as the challenge of the body. Reading had been a way of an escape for him, when he had been younger. He'd never had much ambition as a small child to go outside and play nice with the other kiddies. Since his mother had limited his swordplay time, his only other option was reading. He'd devoured books as he had combat lessons, with the same vigor and craving to be the best. It wasn't long before he was prowling the book shelves of the royal library with as much regularity as he was scene prowling along the training grounds, looking for another unfortunate victim to fall to his already formidable skills.

Nel watched him with her violet eyes, folding her arms across her chest as he poured over the old ledgers. She hadn't expected him to be so… Intelligent? No, she'd always known he was smarter than he let on. But… Well, it was odd to see him there, dressed almost conservatively, reading with an ease and grace that came only with practice, when it came to such old languages. It was… Unnerving. Yes, it was unnerving, to see another side of the oh-so guarded captain of the Black Brigade. As if her opinion of the handsome devil (and a devil he was, no doubt) that was the captain of the Black Brigade.

_Author's Notes: Eh. Weak ending, but it felt like the chapter was dragging on, to me, and I didn't know how else to end it. And I don't like the transition between Albel and NEl outside, to goign inside the library, but again, I lack the creative flowat the moment to think of anything more.Excuse my total lack of awesomeness… ;; So, what did you think? First attempt at a fanfiction ever, so try to be nice, okay? Though I wouldn't mind constructive criticism. Thanks for reading! _


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